


Make It Out When The Sun Is Ruined

by Saccharine_Ghosts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: "Getting Up", Aged Up Slightly, Drabble, Fluff, Hangover, I'm not funny., Just Missed the 'Mature' Tag, Light Smut, M/M, So Married, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, getting up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9332123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccharine_Ghosts/pseuds/Saccharine_Ghosts
Summary: Yuuri vaguely remembers having his jeans peeled off and getting tucked into bed the night before, but he doesn’t remember much before or after that. His body, however, would really like to remind him of the fun he had last night, and all he bad decisions that came with it. When he finally cracks an eye open after an hour or so of pretending he was still asleep and couldn’t feel the dryness of his mouth or the dull ache in the back of his head, there are lips against his jaw, moving lower and lower until they reach his mouth, barely there but enveloping his senses nonetheless.~~~Married!Viktuuri waking up slowly.





	

Yuuri vaguely remembers having his jeans peeled off and getting tucked into bed the night before, but he doesn’t remember much before or after that. His body, however, would really like to remind him of the fun he had last night, and all he bad decisions that came with it. When he finally cracks an eye open after an hour or so of pretending he was still asleep and couldn’t feel the dryness of his mouth or the dull ache in the back of his head, there are lips against his jaw, moving lower and lower until they reach his mouth, barely there but enveloping his senses nonetheless. 

He knows who they belong to, there’s no doubt in his brain that it could only be his husband, hovering over him to press gentle kisses against the edges of his face and curve of his lips. Viktor must’ve been the one to take off his jeans and get him into bed last night, because he obviously knew he’d drank a little too much to be woken up in the normal ‘poodle alarm and/or blow job’ style way he’d become so accustomed to. 

When his vision clears, he looks up to see the man himself, signature oceanic eyes cloudy from sleep but still full of more emotion than Yuuri could ever bring himself to show at this hour, and pale hair only slightly dishevelled by the quiet night he’d just been subjected to. He must notice Yuuri opening his eyes because as he’s blinking through the sleep and burning from the light seems just a little too overpowering, the Russian’s smile turns up even further, acknowledging that his plans to wake up his spouse without a violent outburst had worked. 

“Good morning, my love.” Viktor moved down to catch Yuuri’s lips with his own, making Yuuri coil back in protest. “Did I do something wrong?” The Russian frowns, “Do I have bad breathe or something?” The raven-haired man still covers his mouth, but lets his eyes open completely so he could lock eyes with the absolute man-child above him. 

“No, but I do.” He let his free hand reach down to scratch an itch above the elastic of his boxers, “Remind me why I let Phichit take me drinking still?” Viktor pulled Yuuri’s hand away from his face and brought both arms up so he could trap his head between his elbows, hands on each side of the pillow. 

“I don’t know,” he lowered himself so he could envelop Yuuri’s lips in a deeper kiss, “You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now.” He mumbled against the younger man’s lips, letting them just barely touch. You’d have thought the sparks would have gone, at this point in their relationship, especially with a hangover looming over one of their head’s like a dark storm cloud, but Yuuri could’ve sworn they were there every time. Every time they touched, or kissed, or spoke there was an undeniable feeling of mutual love and respect, unlike anything either of them had experienced before. 

When they broke apart, Viktor let his forehead rest on Yuuri’s, hot breathe mingling in the air between them. Yuuri brought his hand up from under the covers to rub the pad of his thumb against Viktor’s cheekbone, which made him lean into the affection like a dog. 

Quiet moments like this were almost as good as any other, in Viktor’s eyes. Better than winning five world championships, better than any Olympic gold or sponsorship, not quite as good as the day he married the love of his life. In Yuuri’s opinion, it was much better than snatching gold, but not quite as good as watching Viktor or Yuri steal it from under him or another competitor. They basked in the moment, taking it for granted like there was no tomorrow, whilst simultaneously drinking it in as if it was the last time they’d ever see each other. You heard about things like this in the movies, but it wasn’t quite real until you experienced it with your own two eyes. 

“You need to shave.” Yuuri’s internal monologue was broken, as well as the beautiful moment they had shared. He groaned loudly, turning his cheek away from the large, warm hand that had snuck over to cup the side of his head at some point during their kiss. “Oh, Yuuri, don’t be like that! You’ve got some serious shadow going on here, my love, and the NHK is coming up.” He nuzzled into the side of Yuuri’s neck, nose brushing the slight stubble that had seemingly appeared overnight. 

“I hate shaving.” 

“Oh, but you must. We all have to do things we dislike, lyubov moya.” 

“You don’t even have to shave!” He ran a hand through Viktor’s hair and rustled it, turning tameable locks into an unruly mess of bedhead. “What kind of twenty-nine-year-old man doesn’t need to shave?” 

“Excuse you,” Viktor said matter-of-factly, dropping back down to the mattress. “I could have a full grown beard, if I wanted to, real muzhepodobnyy like. Would you like that, love?” He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to put it out of his eyes. 

“Oh, god, don’t even think about it.” Yuuri snickered, “I could only imagine what the tabloids would say if their precious beauty suddenly turned into a lumberjack after marriage.” This time it was the Russian’s turn to snicker, letting his face roll back into the pillow, hands wrapped tight around his husband’s naked waist. “No, no, you’re the one who woke me up, you’ll get up with me, regardless of whether you have practice today or not.” Yuuri lifted his body up and over Viktor to reach his phone and glasses on the bedside table on the other side of the bed, checking the time to see how long they had before they had to be at the rink. 

“Yu-uri~” Viktor’s voice was huskier now, despite having fully woken up. Yuuri smiled down at him, dropping his phone and glasses back down on the table so he could pin him back to the mattress. When he leaned down to latch onto Viktor’s naked collarbone, there were, unsurprisingly, no protests, just a low keening noise from the back of the Russian’s throat. 

He dipped lower and lower, licking and sucking dark marks into the milky, pale skin of his husband’s chest and sides, until he reached the silver strip of hair above the black elastics of his briefs. Viktor looked down at him, goofy grin plastered across his face, just for Yuuri. The kind of grin you don’t get to see directed at you very often, maybe even once in a lifetime for some people. Yuuri continued his exploration, pulling the black briefs down with his teeth, whisky eyes never leaving sapphire until Viktor’s head rolled back against the pillow with an exasperated sigh. 

“Ah- How did I ever get so lucky? You’re too much, really.” 

“Mm, I’m not sure? I ask myself that every day.” Yuuri began peppering the insides of pale thighs with light, teasing kisses. “If it’s too much, I can stop.” His voice was light with mischief but still a little raspy from the shots the night before, and a bit cloudy with lust. Despite the teasing tone, Viktor’s head shot up slightly, bangs covering his left eye. 

“What time is it now?” 

“7:32. ” 

“What time did we tell Yakov we’d be at the rink?” 

“9:00 O’clock.” 

“Don’t stop, Yuuri.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might go for a second chapter if people enjoyed this one, but no promises. The title is from Pink + White by Frank Ocean, who I've been obsessing over lately, and his album Blonde was the highlight of 2016's music. It really reminds me of Viktuuri, if you'd like to listen to it while you read the fic. 
> 
> Muzhepodobnyy means 'manly', and lyubov moya means 'my love'. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is, as always, welcomed and encouraged. Let me know what you think! If you'd like to come chat with me about Y!!!OI or make a fic request, you should hit me up on my instagram @queers.on,ice.


End file.
